


Food Driven

by saxophonic



Series: B.A.P Bingo Challenge 2015 [3]
Category: B.A.P
Genre: Bickering, Food, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Road Trips, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 04:40:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4421732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saxophonic/pseuds/saxophonic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Himchan and Daehyun embark on a food-filled road trip for a special entry in their joint food blog. (Fill for "Road Trip" B.A.P Bingo Square)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Food Driven

**Author's Note:**

> Written to fill my "Road Trip" square for [BAP Bingo Challenge](http://bapbingochallenge.tumblr.com/).

They pull into the parking lot of the diner a little after 10AM. Himchan opens the door and hot air blasts into the car. Sweat prickles between his shoulder blades as he puts the sunshade against the inside of the windshield.

On the other side of the car, Daehyun stretches his arms and legs as he waits for Himchan to finish. “Ready for the first stop?”

“You bet.” Himchan locks the car. “I’m hungry.”

“Me too,” Daehyun says. They head for the diner and pray the place has good air conditioning.

There isn’t a single bare patch of wall inside the building. Every inch of space bears framed newspaper clippings of historical events, vintage rock-and-roll record albums, signed prints and photographs of movie and rock stars past. The place has art-deco chrome diner furniture that might as well have come straight from a movie set. There’s someone sitting in almost every seat. Indistinct bluesy rock-and-roll drifts through the speakers, filling in any gaps between the chatter of diners and the clinking of utensils.

“Just two?” asks the server attending the host stand.

“Just two,” Daehyun says. 

The server grabs two menus from behind the stand and motions with their head for Himchan and Daehyun to follow. “This way.”

Once seated at their table, Himchan orders a black coffee and Daehyun gets orange juice. They don’t glance at the menu. They came here for a specific dish, requesting it without hesitation when the server asks their order. Himchan and Daehyun take out their phones, snapping pictures of the restaurant from their booth. 

Hunger and excitement rumble in the pit of Himchan’s stomach. He’d heard about this diner’s unique breakfast dish, a big plate of good old-fashioned greasy food he could easily split with Daehyun. Himchan flips through the photos of the restaurant he’d taken and hopes the food is just as unique. “This place as a good feeling,” Himchan says.

“I agree.” Daehyun takes a photo of himself, angling the camera to capture the decor on the wall. “How did you find this place again?”

“One of my readers recommended we try it,” Himchan says. “It was on the way to our food paradise, so I figured why not?”

“No, I like it. It’s got more character than any rest stop McDonald’s.”

Himchan snorts. “Character? This is like a whole book.” He looks around, eyes never lingering on one piece for too long. The diner is pleasing to the eye in that haphazard way, decorations and colors thrown together without so much as a prayer they match. The clientele seem to fit in, some locals focused on their meals and other tourists taking photos.

Motion from the kitchen door catches Himchan’s eye. Their server, arm full of food trays, bustles through and begins dropping off meals. Daehyun trails off mid-sentence when the server reaches them, plates hot and piled with food. “Here you are, fellas,” says the server.

“Woah.” Daehyun stares, slack-jawed and eyes wide.

“Thank you,” Himchan says.

“Let me know if you need anything else.” The server leaves a stack of paper napkins and head back into the kitchen.

Between them, Daehyun reaches to cut a piece from the stack off food on the platters. “Wait! Pictures, pictures!”

“Right!” Daehyun’s hands switch directions, setting his fork down to pick up his phone.

Himchan focuses on their side dish, first. A pancake, thick and golden brown, spreads over the platter. Atop the pancake sit pats of butter in plastic containers, easily dwarfed by the thickness of the pancake itself. Not to mention the diameter of the thing has to be at least a foot, if not larger. It’s bigger than Himchan’s face. And this was just the side flapjack. Daehyun unwraps the butter and drizzles maple syrup over the pancake while Himchan diligently snaps away with his phone camera.

The main dish is by far the most indulgent thing Himchan has ever had the pleasure of seeing. He snaps a picture, trying to get all components of the dish. Granted, it’s difficult when the toast on the bottom barely peeks out between ladles of melted cheese and sausage gravy, stacked with a slice of ham and topped with hashed potato and onions. It smells sinful. Himchan’s mouth waters.

“Okay,” Himchan says, putting his phone away. “Let’s eat.”

\---

“That might have been too much food,” Daehyun says, sitting back in the passenger seat of Himchan’s car. He clutches his belly, a happy groan escaping from his lips as he puts his feet up on the dashboard.

“Get those dirty shoes off my dash,” Himchan says, whacking Daehyun’s knee with one hand.

“Both hands on the wheel! Both hands on the wheel!”

“It was definitely too much food.” Himchan settles both hands on the steering wheel, but only after Daehyun’s feet are back on the car floor. “We didn’t eat half of it.”

“We could have taken it to go,” Daehyun says.

“The point of this trip is to try as much food as we can.” Himchan presses a button on the steering wheel. The air conditioning increases by a few degrees. “We can’t do that if we spend a whole day slogging through leftovers of one meal.”

Daehyun shifts, crossing his arms over his chest as he slides down in the passenger seat. “Whatever.”

“And sit up,” Himchan says. “It isn’t safe to sit like that.” Himchan can’t see, but he knows Daehyun well enough to know Daehyun is rolling his eyes. Without a word, Daehyun inches back up and turns on their road trip playlist as they chase pavement through the countryside.

\---

The sun is hours below the horizon when Daehyun opens the door to their motel room. The air inside has that musty smell like water spilled on the carpet years ago and nobody bothered to dry it. Hideous bedspreads adorn the two twin beds in the room, and the rest of the furniture looks just as cheap. They’re old without any of the charm of a family heirloom. Himchan wrinkles his nose as he shuts the door behind him. “I should have booked the rooms and let you schedule our food stops.”

Daehyun sets his duffel bag on the wood desk on the corner. “You would have booked something expensive.”

“I’d rather sleep in the car if they’re all going to be like this.” Himchan catches Daehyun’s skeptical look. “What?”

“You? Sleep in the car?” Daehyun asks. “You? Give up a hot shower? Mirrors with vanity lights?”

“I’m probably going to get all kinds of gross feet fungi from the shower.” Himchan 

“Himchan, I watched you pack flip-flops specifically for shower use.”

This gives Himchan a moment of pause. “Irrelevant. I’m sure it’s disgusting.”

“Whatever you say.” Daehyun unzips his bag and rifles for his toiletries. “I’ll shower first.”

“Fine by me.” Himchan opens his suitcase for his pajamas.

In the morning, Daehyun catches Himchan using the bathroom vanity to apply moisturizer. He gives Himchan a smug look in the mirror as he sets a styrofoam cup of cheap coffee next to Himchan’s toiletry bag.

\---

Himchan refuses to allow Daehyun to control the music when Daehyun’s behind the wheel. “You’ll crash my baby,” he says.

“I’m a good driver!” Daehyun says. “Look at this prime turn signal action as I switch lanes.” He merges without incident. It helps they’re more or less alone on this stretch of interstate. Himchan tells him so. “Whatever. You got to pick the songs when you were driving.”

“My car. My rules.” Himchan scrolls through his music before eventually picking a song. “My rules? My music.”

“Your music sucks.”

“Don’t be bitter; it doesn’t suit you,” Himchan says. Daehyun groans, readjusting his grip on the steering wheel. “You have this car on cruise control?”

“Yes, mom.”

Himchan laughs. “That’s really no way to persuade me to let you DJ.”

“So you can be persuaded?” Daehyun grins like he’s already won.

“We’ll see.”

\---

“Now, this is a sandwich,” Daehyun gushes as the line cook smashes the top bun on each sandwich and slides the tray across the counter. They’re attractive even under the unflattering incandescent light of the restaurant. The toasted bread piled high with meat and dripping dark sauce makes Himchan’s stomach grumble with anticipation. Daehyun scuttles away to find space around a standing counter while Himchan waits for their fries to finish cooking.

On his way to find Daehyun, Himchan pops a fry into his mouth. Unlike the skinless, twice-cooked fries Himchan’s used to, these are thicker wedges. Most have the potato skins still on. They’re not crunchy, but creamy with a bit of resistance at the bite. He’s not sure if he likes it better this way.

Himchan slides next to Daehyun, setting the fries beside the pulled pork sandwiches. Daehyun is already snapping pictures from different angles, and Himchan joins him. They promised their joint food blog readers photos of everything worth eating during their adventure. “This is less visually overwhelming than that diner,” Daehyun says.

“True,” Himchan says, “but these smell way better.”

“I’m eating mine now. I can’t wait any more.”

Sliding his phone into his pocket, Himchan grabs his sandwich. He holds it at an angle, trying to prevent any meat from falling. The first bite proves the sauces’ worth, tangy and a tad sweet, thick and spiced. Himchan isn’t sure if the meat enhances the sauce or the sauce enhances the meat, but he’s halfway done before he realizes he’s eating too fast. He stops, putting the sandwich down to take a sip of water. A sandwich like this deserves time.

\---

They fall victim to a series of billboards along the interstate promising the state’s largest collection of rare and unusual artifacts. Daehyun pleads and pleads until Himchan agrees with a groan. “It’ll be fun,” Daehyun says as Himchan moves over lane after lane. “A good way for us to stretch our legs. And, you know, it isn’t safe or healthy to drive for long periods of time. You need a break.”

“Uh huh.” Himchan taps the brakes to release cruise control as they merge into the exit lane. “This has absolutely nothing to do with the pink elephants or the alien spaceship debris you were talking about five minutes ago.”

“It’s a rest stop,” Daehyun says airily. “These things are bound to crop up.”

The roadside museum shares a parking lot with a gas station, so Himchan finds a parking spot between the two. Daehyun chatters about all the creepy things this museum must have as they wait in a winding line with a handful of other tourists.

After forking over the ridiculous (non-refundable) admission fee at the front of the line, Himchan and Daehyun slip through a door veiled with a black velvet curtain. Himchan watches Daehyun’s face fall as he takes in the sight before him.

“It isn’t real?” Daehyun asks.

“Oh it’s real,” Himchan says, “a real fraud.”

The museum turns out to be a single large room, with the high-vaulted ceilings of a warehouse. Spot lighting highlights stand-alone exhibits of glorified junk encased in glass, leaving the rest of the museum in shadow. They wander through, looking at geodes pretending to be fossilized dragon eggs, twisted utensils masquerading as mythic torture devices, and a series of floppy disks without an explanation. A poorly-rendered clay sculpture of a cross between the Flying Spaghetti Monster and Cthulhu claims to be “The Fantastic Alien Brain” with “art piece” in miniscule lettering beneath it. Everything touted in big letters is junk pretending to be something they’re not.

“This place is waiting for a lawsuit to happen,” Himchan says as they approach the last oddity. A rusty chunk of a truck door sits behind glass at the far end of the room, near the exit. The hand-painted sign advertises it as a piece of salvaged UFO wreckage.

“I can’t believe we paid for this,” Daehyun says. Himchan puts an arm around his shoulder in a one-armed hug. “At least we can fill up on gas and take a bathroom break before we go?” Daehyun offers his best placating smile.

Himchan has already built up an immunity against it. He raises his eyebrows. “You’re driving the rest of the day.”

\---

It’s growing dark when Himchan wakes up in the passenger seat of his car. They’re still driving.

“Daehyun,” he asks, tongue heavy. “How much further to the motel exit?”

“Well….” Daehyun’s pitch starts high and trails higher.

“Oh my god.” Himchan groans, covering his face with one hand. “Don’t say it.”

“You were sleeping!” Daehyun says. “You kept stirring whenever the GPS would talk, so I turned it off!”

Rubbing his temples, Himchan asks, “By ‘turned it off,’ you mean just the volume, right?” Daehyun doesn’t answer. Himchan drops his hand. “Daehyun.”

“I didn’t throw it out the window.”

“Daehyun!”

“I just turned it off—”

“The whole thing?”

“—and put it in the back seat somewhere.”

Himchan turns in his chair, leaning through the space between the two seats as far as his seatbelt will allow him. Their back seat is an explosion of clothes, unopened snacks, toiletries, and trash. Himchan reaches out to feel for the GPS blindly. “This is useless,” he says before unbuckling with the push of his thumb.

“What? No, that’s dangerous!” Daehyun says.

“Eyes forward,” Himchan says. He sinks to his knees as best he can behind the passenger seat. “How did we get so much stuff?” Himchan tunes out Daehyun’s nervous babble as he overturns a pile of empty water bottles and a pair of shorts that must have fallen from one of their bags. “And where did you throw this thing while I was asleep?”

“Wait!” Daehyun says.

“What?”

“Use your phone!”

Himchan’s hand finds his front pocket. “Ah, right.” He pats his pockets down, finding them empty. Peering around to look on the passenger seat, Himchan grabs his phone and pulls up the mobile’s GPS app. “Ok, just take the next exit you can and turn around.”

“On it.”

\---

The motel is nicer than any of the previous they’ve booked. No musty smell, a climate control unit that actually works, and no nest of spiders in the bathroom. There’s just one thing off.

“Where’s the other bed?” Daehyun asks, dropping his bag to the ground.

“Get out of the door, Daehyun,” Himchan says, nudging him to one side with an elbow. “There’s got to be a cot or something.” But, when Himchan sweeps the room with his eyes, there is no cot or couch to be found. Just a single full-size bed.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Don’t be so overdramatic.” Himchan settles his things by the bed.

Snorting, Daehyun says, “You’re one to talk.”

Himchan ignores him. “We can just call the front desk and ask for something for you to sleep on.”

“No way.” Daehyun stops unpacking his toiletries. “I booked this place, so I should sleep on the bed. Besides, you slept in the car.”

“I’m older than you, and I’m the one coming up with the solution.” Himchan sniffs. “I get the bed.”

Daehyun glowers at Himchan, grabbing a clean towel from the rack. “I’m showering first.”

While Daehyun sulks under the showerhead, Himchan dials the reception desk with the motel’s landline phone. No matter how he phrases his question, the hotel attendant returns the same answer. “I’m sorry, sir, but we don’t have any spare cots left tonight.”

“Unless you want to sleep on the floor, it looks like we’re going to have to share,” Himchan says when Daehyun exits the bathroom. To Himchan’s surprise, Daehyun just shrugs. “I thought you’d make a bigger fuss about this.”

“I figured as much when I was showering.” Daehyun ruffles his hair with a towel.

Himchan looks from Daehyun to the bed. It’s just sleeping. If they stay on their own sides of the bed, everything should be fine.

The sheets are cold when Himchan slips under them to sleep, the fabric rough against his thighs. In the darkness of the room, he rolls on his side, trying to get comfortable. The bed shifts and the sheets pull as Daehyun tries to do the same thing on his side of the bed.

Himchan grabs them, yanking them back. “Stop stealing the blankets, Daehyun.”

“I’m not stealing them,” Daehyun says, as he pulls on the sheets.

“Yes you are, my side’s exposed.”

“Himchan, I’m just trying to sleep.”

“Yeah, well I’m freezing.” Himchan reaches across the bed until he bumps against Daehyun’s shoulder. His hand finds warm, soft skin. It gives him pause for a moment before he shoves at Daehyun. “Stop being difficult.”

Daehyun reaches across the gap to Himchan, shoving him back. “If you’re cold, go turn up the climate control.”

“No.” Himchan reaches out to shove Daehyun again. “You stop hoarding the blankets.” His hand wraps around Daehyun’s bicep. “Or scoot closer so they don’t have to spread as far.”

“Fine.” The mattress tilts as Daehyun rolls over. “But you have to do the same.”

“Fine.” Himchan opts for scooting instead of rolling closer. “There, happy?”

“Okay.” 

Himchan resettles himself, tugging on his pillow before letting his head drop against it. “Now there should be enough sheets for both of us. Go to sleep.” Himchan closes his eyes as Daehyun hums in agreement. 

It’s peaceful, laying beside Daehyun and listening to the sounds of their breathing, of the air conditioner blowing. The bed warms up twice as quick with both of them in it. Himchan shifts again until he finds a comfortable position and drifts to sleep.

In the morning, he wakes with soft skin pressed against him and an arm slung over bare torso. It takes a moment for him to orient himself and realize the someone in his arms is not last night’s one-night stand, but Daehyun. Himchan stiffens, taking inventory of the rest of his body. 

No boner. He’s good.

Himchan delicately shifts away from Daehyun, removing his arm and sliding out from beneath the sheets. Daehyun sighs in his sleep, body spreading over the warm spot in bed Himchan left behind. As he dresses quietly, Himchan decides to keep what happened to himself. Locking the door behind him, he slips out of the room and heads to the reception area for bad motel coffee.

\---

After a day of museums and landmarks, Himchan leads Daehyun as they wind through a back alley to a rib joint they smelled from the parking lot a block away. A half-open iron grate lets them pass through the doors and into the dim restaurant inside. It’s loud with conversation and a live blues performance. The host seats them in a booth close to the kitchen.

By the time their order arrives, the performers on stage brings up a child brandishing a harmonica. Himchan and Daehyun take pictures of the paprika-red dry rub rack of ribs that make their mouths water. Himchan tears a rib from the rack and bites into it, stunned by the tender meat beneath the crisp crust.

“This is phenomenal,” Himchan says, pitching his voice toward Daehyun. “Worth every hour we drove for them.” Daehyun nods with vigor, choosing to tear into another rib from his rack instead of replying. Laughing, Himchan pauses to snap a picture of Daehyun eating.

“And the music, too!” Daehyun chews another bite of food. “How old do you think that kid is?” He jerks his head in the direction of the child playing the harmonica on stage with the adults.

“Ten? Maybe younger.”

“He’s good,” Daehyun says. “Really good.” Their eyes meet and Himchan can’t help but smile.

“You’ve got a bit of coleslaw on your face.”

“What?” Daehyun wipes a corner of his mouth.

“No,” Himchan says. “Here, just….” He leans over and swipes the food with his thumb, catching a bit of Daehyun’s upper lip with the pad of his finger. “There.”

Their eyes meet again while Himchan’s still hunched over the table, and something has changed, almost imperceptibly. Himchan laughs it off as he sits back, and Daehyun makes a show of dabbing at his face with a napkin. “That was gross,” he says. “I could have done that myself.”

“Yeah, well.” Himchan shrugs. “Too late.”

\---

“I can’t believe this vacation is almost over,” Himchan says as they wait for the server to bring their dessert. “We’ll be back in a few hours. Writing up the blog report is going to be so fun.”

“It’s gone so fast.” Daehyun nods, keeping his eyes on the ice in his glass as he plays with his straw. “Still, I think I’m ready to be done, you know?”

“Yeah.”

“Sleep in my own bed. Take showers in a real shower.”

Himchan laughs. “I can relate to that one. A long, clean, real shower.” He pauses, watching Daehyun chase ice cubes with his straw before letting his gaze drift back to Daehyun’s face. “Doing laundry. Wearing clean clothes.”

“Yeah, feeling normal again.” Daehyun snorts. “Not having to wake up to your ugly face every day.”

“Ugly?” Himchan sputters. “Me? Get a mirror. I’m way….” The words die away as he sees mischief in Daehyun’s smile. “Liar. You love my face. You love my face so much.”

“Maybe.” Daehyun shifts in his chair. “Not as much as you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Himchan asks, leaning an elbow on the table and cocking an eyebrow, but the server brings their dessert and the focus shifts to the warm chocolate cake oozing caramel and doused with vanilla cream. “Oh, my god.”

“Enjoy,” their server says, leaving two long-stemmed spoons and an extra stack of paper napkins on the table. 

Handing Himchan his spoon, Daehyun meets his eyes. “To us,” he says, smiling as he raises his spoon like a glass. 

Himchan nods, clinking their spoons together. “To us.”


End file.
